


Through The Years

by DifferentWorld



Category: Aladdin (1992)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Growth, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Happy Ending, Loss of Virginity, No Underage Sex, no Aladdin/Abu/Genie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:00:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29853606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DifferentWorld/pseuds/DifferentWorld
Summary: It’s no secret that Jasmine and Jafar detest each other. He’s arrogant and dismissive. She’s stubborn and impulsive. Through the years, they have eventually come to share a mutual respect for each other. Can that blossom into something cordial, or more? Spoiler: yes.AU/Canon divergence. No Aladdin, no Abu, no Genie. Jafar and Jasmine still have a significant age gap but not nearly the same as in the animated version. No underage romantic or sexual relationships. Plenty of relationship stuff of her as an adult though!
Relationships: Jafar/Jasmine (Disney)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 14





	1. The Early Years

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all and thank you for reading! This was intended to be a short story, a one shot but it's a little longer than that, probably 4 chapters or so. It's not done yet but I do have the second and a large chunk of the third chapter done (both seem like they will be longer than this first chapter). I'm still easing my way into writing J/J stories so thank you for giving me a chance!
> 
> I'm hoping that the entire story will be published soon, maybe within the next two weeks but it all depends on how long I decide to edit and obsess over whether my writing is okay for lol. Thank you ahead for your reviews and kudos, they really fuel me to write!

At age ten, Princess Jasmine found herself utterly alone.

She looked around her, eyes dropping at the sight of the empty garden. Not that she expected otherwise. It just felt... unreal. Like she could go to the Sultana’s chambers and say hello at any moment and get a hug.

She came straight here after the funeral, seeking comfort in the flowers her mother had lovingly tended.

Not that it mattered. Not now that she's gone.

She was so deep in her thoughts that she didn't realize there was another person walking towards her until he sat down beside her.

Jasmine was startled a bit, seeing Grand Vizier Jafar sit next to her. He never approached her like this, seeing her as unimportant and a nuisance. After all, she is a child. He didn't seem phased even though she stared at him in irritation of his intrusion, hardly blinking.

"I am sorry for your loss, Princess Jasmine," he said after a while.

Jasmine's face twisted into a deep frown, closing her eyes to keep the tears from falling. "You don't mean it. You hated Mother."

"I most certainly did not." He was full of bewilderment. "Your mother is - was, a gentle soul and a kind person. I could never hate her. She was always good to me."

"You were mean to her!" Jasmine stood, pointing an accusing finger at his face. "You're evil and horrible. When I'm queen, I'll have the power to get rid of you!"

In their culture, it is extremely rude for a child to address an adult in this way. Taboo even. Pointing her finger at his face would make aunties gasp and uncles tell parents to use corporal punishment, especially a female child to an adult male. Jafar had every right to call her governess or the sultan himself to punish her.

And she expected him to. He didn't take it lightly when people insulted him. He hardly said things outright but one could see it in his eyes when he would plan some sort of embarrassment as punishment, or he would psychologically torture them by making them think he was plotting something and never would.

To her surprise, he didn't seem to want to do any of that. If anything, he regarded her with sympathy. "I know you're hurting, Princess. Because of that, I will let it go. I understand your pain."

She felt embarrassed. It would be so much easier if he yelled at her instead of meeting her grief with pity. "No, you don't."

"My mother died when I was barely older than you."

Jasmine hung her head. She didn't want to think that others suffered too. Right now, her pain was the worst pain in the world.

He stood next to her. "She will live in your memories forever. Even here, in the garden, it's a memory to her. It's up to you to keep her memory alive."

Jasmine looked up, seeing him look out into the garden too. She wouldn't say it, but it was nice to hear that instead of "she's with Allah" or "it will feel better with time." It was much more real and relevant to her anguish.

Still, she would never forget how he had publicly insulted the late sultana at a dinner party. The memory made her snarl. "You laughed at her when she said that she wanted to be a professor before she married. Then you said as a woman, she was only useful for having children. And she failed because she failed to birth a son."

_That her failure is me._

Jafar massaged his temple. "I came here to offer you comfort, not to relive the past."

"The past? That was only a few weeks ago!"

Her mother had cried alone after the insult. The sultan didn't even bother to be by her side to support her. He loved her mother but was the biggest coward, pretending that he was the face of unity at the expense of not standing up for his family.

"Watch your tongue," Jafar warned her. Of course, no matter how kind he could be, his patience did not extend very far.

"I hate you!" Jasmine snapped at him. "I don't know why you were so awful to her!"

She got up and turned on her heel, Jafar still glowering at her back.

* * *

At age 13, Jasmine was fuming in the library.

It was her birthday, and for her present, her father was going to allow her to finally leave the palace and go with him on some tour around the Capitol.

Then, they got into an argument last minute and he told her that she demonstrated that she wasn't mature enough to go.

She suspected that he argued with her just to say that. It was cruel and she hated being kept in a gilded cage, only to be paraded in front of important people when they arrived.

She couldn't focus on her book, so the young princess walked out. She paced around the gilded cage that was her home when she heard a pleasant sound. Some sort of music.

Jasmine opened a door to the room, finding the Grand Vizier drumming his fingers on a instrument. When he saw her, he stopped playing, looking at her with a show of feigned respect, true irritation barely hidden beneath. She learned now to not take his irritation personally. He always seemed to think that he was the only competent person around him. "Is there something I can do for you, Princess?"

Her eyes were on his instrument, curiosity piqued. "Why are you here? I thought you would be with Father."

"Your father?" He sounded confused.

"Yes, he's on an important trip. The one where he was supposed to take me with him for my thirteenth birthday."

Jafar's face was blank. "Ah, a trip. I see."

Jasmine's face fell, understanding the full situation. "There's no trip. He was never going to let me leave the palace, was he?"

Jafar sighed. "You are quite perceptive."

She fought back her tears. "Stop mocking me, Jafar."

"I'm not, I'm merely making an observation on your character."

She let out a dry laugh, not wanting to dwell on the fact that he father thought she was incapable of being safe just because she was born of the wrong sex. She changed the topic. "What is that?"

"It's an instrument," he strummed a few notes.

"Could you be any more vague?" Jasmine's voice rose to a higher, pitch.

Jafar's head shot up. "Possibly."

Despite being irritated, both couldn't help but have the faintest twitch of a smile.

"It's called a lute," he responded, strumming another song.

"I didn't know that you could play an instrument."

"There's a lot you don't know about me."

Rather than showing him that she wasn't pleased with his tone, she asked more questions. "How did you learn to play?"

"I learned it myself."

Jasmine tilted her head. "Impressive."

"Thank you."

She gave up. He was impossible to talk to. As she turned to leave, he called after her, quite surprising.

"Princess," he said. "For what it's worth, I am sorry that you cannot leave the palace."

She was going to thank him for the kind words when he kept on speaking.

"You are a young woman now, and the world isn't safe for women. I understand your father's desire to keep you safe."

She whirled around, lips pursed and eyes wide. "Maybe if men didn't make the world so unsafe for women, I wouldn't have to worry!"

She slammed the door shut without another word. She hated that he and every other person in this damned kingdom thought that she was unable to do things just because of her sex. There were boys who weren't as talented as her in their studies or archery, but she was seen as a fluke, not as the person that she was.

Well, she was going to prove them wrong.

* * *

At age sixteen, Princess Jasmine gave a small curtsey to the sultan. "I also have a present for The Grand Vizier.”

Jafar raised an eyebrow, quickly glancing at the sultan, finding that he was also surprised at this. A present? From Jasmine?

While there was shared mutual respect (although mostly for show) between them as a member of the royal family and advisor to the sultan, there was no secret that they detest each other, especially during the entirety of her adolescent years. For her to offer him a present was something to be suspicious about.

The sultan nodded excitedly, loving surprises. "Step forward, my daughter. What present do you have for The Grand Vizier on his birthday?”

Jasmine curtsied to Jafar. "I have two gifts for you. This first is not a physical gift, but I hope that you will enjoy it nonetheless."

She turned to the right and nodded her head. A servant came with something on the pillow.

A lute.

Everyone watched with great interest as she took the lute and played a melody. To an untrained musician, they just thought that the piece sounded lovely. To one like Jafar, his eyes shot to his forehead when he heard how complex the piece actually was. She played every note and chord with ease, as if she was born for this. Her fingers and wrists weren’t quite in the correct form, but quick and agile enough to show that she spent a lot of time practicing.

Then, Jasmine began to sing.

And her voice, oh how lovely. It was enchanting, light yet deep at the same time. She wove a tale of old gods from another religion and their stories intertwining with the seasons of the earth. She brought them from the beginning of the creation of the earth to the present, singing praises of all the humans that had brought them here today and hope for the future.

When she was done, the room broke out into sincere applause. Her father clapped the loudest, saying that he had no idea that she had a hidden talent. Others whispered that she may be blessed by the gods themselves. But she didn't care about everyone else, for they would have felt obligated to clap for her anyway.

She was looking at Jafar.

He clapped much like everyone else, his face passive, but his eyes told her all she needed to know.

For the first time, he was impressed by her. So much so, that he couldn't even feign the usual annoyance that he felt towards her.

"I thank you, Princess, for the gift, as I am a lover of music." He bowed to her deeply. "I am most honored."

This time, he was not charming her for the sake of being charming. He meant it.

She curtsied to him again. Jasmine called another servant. "Since you are a lover of music, I have this for you."

In the servant's arms was a qanun. Jafar could scarcely breathe at the impressive instrument, much more complicated than even a lute. He reached out to touch it, even more amazed by her generosity.

However, something nagged against the back of his mind. There had to be something more to this. And he was going to find out.

The next day, Jasmine found that the Grand Vizier requested to have lunch with her. This was new, he never ate with her unless she just happened to be there when he needed to speak to the sultan.

She smiled to herself. Maybe her plan was going to work after all.

"How long have you been playing?" He asked her, taking a sip of his tea.

She knew that he wouldn't be able to help himself but ask. "A little more than three years now," she answered politely.

He raised his eyebrows. "And your tutor? You must have an incredible tutor for you to excel this quickly, even with three years of experience."

"I have no tutor," she couldn't help but look at him with pride. "I learned it all myself."

He hummed, surprised. "Not bad for a woman."

Just like that, Jasmine felt something break in her. She didn't care for Jafar, but to hear his insult disguised as a compliment made her want to break his nose.

She leveled her breaths, restraining her fist. "For a woman?" She clarified.

He stroked his chin in thought. "Wrong choice of words, Your Highness. You are talented, period."

There was one thing that she could say about Jafar, and that was the fact that he never said an untruth. He could deceive and be dishonest, but he never said anything that was actually untrue.

"Then why mention my sex in the first place?" The Princess questioned. "Do you believe women are inferior to men in all things?"

"Of course not. Women are better at some things than men, as a general rule. Men have their strengths though, and music seems to be one of them. You are an anomaly."

"And what would men be better at?"

He chuckled. "The fact that you have to ask just proves my point."

"No," Jasmine kept her face passive as she said this. "I ask for _your_ view, which is not the same as most men."

"You've never cared for it before."

"You are avoiding the question."

He put his elbows on the armrests, interlocking his fingers at his chest. "It seems we are at an impasse."

"You could just answer the damn question," was Jasmine's retort.

Jafar clicked his tongue. "Such language, Princess. I thought you were too old for this kind of behavior."

"I want to know why you feel women are so inferior," she said with a bit more force and fire. Jafar seemed a bit taken back by the way she flashed her eyes in such deep contempt. "I want to know why you continue to treat me like a child who doesn't know much, yet, according to our laws I am old enough to be married-"

"Maybe if you acted less like a child, I would cease treating you as one."

"-why you continue to act as if common women should not receive an education or be head of state when there have been women in other cultures who have proven to be more than capable of rule."

"You may be the future Sultana, but you should know your station!" He shouted, easily fed up with her attitude. "You know that women are too emotional, too weak to lead a nation even to battle. Present company included."

"Really?" Jasmine lowered the volume of her voice, but none of the fire in it. "Who caused wars and made laws on a whim? All men. You are aware that throughout history, there have been women who lead their people just as well and oftentimes, better than the men."

"And they are far and few in between, Princess. What's your point?" He pointed out a window. "For example, Agrabah is not a safe place for you, a woman."

Jasmine gestured all around her. "You are the Grand Vizier. Think of the laws and customs that give you privilege in this world. I'm not even talking about education or gender roles, I'm talking about things like walking down the street at night. Women are attacked and we are told it's our fault for staying out late, but if a man is attacked, he can take revenge. Maybe you should do your job better for the women of Agrabah, who make up half the population, I might add."

"You dare accuse me of not doing my work?" Jafar seethed. "Your father and his toys, often taking up the duration of the meetings that happens. Don't argue with me! You know how he is. He spends all day with his toys rather than worrying about the outside world, shutting himself in as much as he can. I have to do everything around here and you can't even see that!"

"How am I supposed to?" She held her hands, palms up. How dare he? "You cannot put the blame on me when I don't have access to these meetings. I can't even leave the palace with the guards!"

He leaned back, coming to a realization. "That's why you gave me that qanun and played that lute. You were trying to make me see you as capable of knowledge and rule, weren't you? So that I can sway your father to let you leave the palace. Well, I have news for you: music does not help you be a good ruler."

"That's not what I intended," she sighed. It was related, but not quite. Her plan was to ease into it, to get to know him and show her studious, political side. To then have him put in a good word to her father to let her go out of the palace eventually. "But it doesn't matter. You of all people should understand that education should be for everyone, so that those who have hidden talents would not stay hidden."

She was referring to the fact that he had grown up poor. Worse than a peasant really. For him to rise above his station so quickly was an incredible feat that impressed some and caused suspicion in others. Even she felt the same, seeing how he would constantly try to impress her father, buttering up to him. Sometimes even outright manipulating him.

"Women-"

"Are just as capable as men!" she finished for him. "And even if the majority of women are not, why not give them the chance? Allah knows that there are mediocre men in this world. You seem to think my father is."

"Even if I were to suggest change, how do you think that would happen?" He demanded. "You think that I have that power? And then what happens when laws change? There will be violence in the streets and people die. Is that what you want? To cause division and instability?"

She stood, too tired to argue with him. "Thank you for this meal, Your Grace, but I will now take my leave. Good day."

Going to her room, Jasmine screamed into a pillow. She failed. She had intended to be on her best behavior no matter what, and could withstand so many things as part of her training as a princess. And somehow, Jafar was able to get under her skin and make her rise in fury as no other.

By Allah, she hated him.

* * *

A week after her failed lunch with Jafar and not seeing him for the entire duration of said week, she was called to a dinner with The Sultan and The Grand Vizier.

She groaned. This could not be a good thing. Perhaps she was going to be chastised and be told to make up. Jasmine may be her father's little girl, but he still wanted everyone to get along because he could not stand conflict or face it head-on.

She and Jafar gave each other polite nods of acknowledgement. The Sultan sat down, looking at them both seriously. "Jasmine, there is something I would like to speak to you about."

Her eyes flickered at Jafar, finding that he expected this conversation. Her eyes narrowed in a threat. She braced herself for a lecture about her behavior towards the Grand Vizier from a week ago. "Yes, Father?"

"I believe that it is time for you to venture outside the palace. Starting tomorrow."

Jasmine nearly dropped her goblet. Did she hear him right?

He continued. "You are, after all, the future sultana, and as much as I want to keep you safe here, you must go and see your kingdom."

She grinned, feeling as if she was on a cloud.

"You need to know what the kingdom is like so that you may choose a good husband to rule over it one day."

Jasmine took a drink out of her goblet again, hiding her disappointment. Of course, it would be tied to the condition of her marriage. Dependent on a man. However, she wasn't going to argue with him, lest he decide to pull that same stunt he did when she was thirteen and go against his word. "Yes, Father. I am most grateful for your wisdom and insight."

Jafar choked at that moment, summoning a servant for more water. If Jasmine had been sitting next to him and not across from him, she would have kicked him.

"Oh you," her father kissed her cheek. "Be careful though, you probably won't like it much out there. I want you safe."

"Of course. Where would we be going?"

"Oh, I'm not going."

Jafar blinked along with her and looked at him. "You're not, Your Majesty?"

"Oh no!" The sultan laughed. "This is not an official visit of any kind. I have many things to do. No, I will not go." He took Jasmine's hands in his. "But don't worry, I leave you in the best care of the best guards and with Jafar."

The Princess and the Grand Vizier looked at each other. "Jafar is coming?"

"Well, it was his idea," the sultan looked at Jafar. "I don't have time for things like this."

Jasmine may not be privy to the meetings, but even she knew that Jafar was right: her father was not a good ruler. A good man, absolutely, but a horrible ruler. He was impulsive and transferred that impulsiveness to her. Jafar was the one who did most of the work. She wasn't going to say it out loud, for the sting of him insulting her father to get to her was still lingering in the air.

And, for her own father to say that he didn't have time to venture out of the palace with her... She knew that he loved to stay at home but she needed him.

"But I want you to come with me," she pleaded, not wanting to be alone with Jafar. Well, alone with him and the guards. Even if he did help come up with the idea.

Speaking of which, why was he doing this? Surely not out of the goodness of his own hear. Jafar must have some motive.

"I am also quite busy tomorrow, Your Majesty," Jafar said smoothly. "It would be best if she was to be accompanied by you, as she will be taking your place one day."

For once, Jasmine publicly agreed with the man. "I agree with Jafar, and besides, we can spend time together." She squeezed her father's hand, giving him a pleading smile.

She could tell that she almost won him over, but failed. "I'm sorry, my dear. I cannot go with you. Since Jafar cannot go with you, I'm afraid that it would be a long time until you can go."

"But, father," she said in earnest. "Please."

She hated that her voice broke in front of Jafar, proving to him further that women were weak and emotional.

She hated even more that she cared about that snake's opinion.

The sultan was adamant. "No, I don't trust anyone besides myself and Jafar to accompany you."

"But I really want to go. I was so excited when you told me."

She was aware that she sounded like a child, but she hoped that the tactic would work on him.

"I must be firm on this, Jasmine." He patted her hand. "I am sorry to be disappointing you. Perhaps you're not ready to leave if you see this trip as something fun and not for you to get to know your people."

It was worse than a knife slicing through her. "How can you say that? You know that I take my position seriously. I just am excited to go out as well, I can feel both things at once."

"Jasmine-"

"Perhaps I can clear out my schedule."

Both father and daughter looked at Jafar, not having expecting him to say anything more than his refusal.

Jafar, now seeing that he had their attention, continued. "If that is alright with you, my liege. I will accompany her tomorrow, and I will bring her back safe and sound. You will not need to worry about her. I will guard her as best as I can.”

The sultan beamed. "Well, that settles it. Thank you, Jafar."

Jasmine was a bit miffed that her father didn't ask her if _she_ was alright with it, but again, she wasn't going to complain. Even if Jafar was coming with her, as suspicious as that was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Constructive criticism is always appreciated, I only ask that you're nice to me because I'm having a sad week so far (lol). I tried to do some (albeit very quick) research on instruments from the era Aladdin takes place but i'm kinda like "whatever" because I'm confused as to when everything takes place anyway. If you have a more historical background and would like to tell me, feel free to!


	2. Becoming a Woman

Jasmine was on a high after her first time outside the palace. She had asked to dress in normal clothing, hiding her status as a princess and wanting to blend in with the people. They went to the market where she paid for food on her own for the first time, talked with locals, visited a town hall, and spoke to some of the local leaders.

It was exhausting, but she loved it. There was much to fix around the kingdom, especially in the poorer places where there was a lot of crime, but it was flourishing for the most part. She was aware that as much as she read reports and tried to learn, she was just starting out. Being a bit embarrassed at not knowing the cost of food and asking Jafar to help her humbled her greatly.

Speaking of Jafar, she turned to him. "Jafar, would you be so kind as to dine with me in an hour?"

Jafar nodded coldly but politely. "Of course."

Jasmine got ready, reflecting on her day outside. Jafar was actually kind to her, not at all mocking her in her attempts to talk to people and making a few faux pas. If anything he was... guiding her.

Which, of course, made her all the more suspicious.

And then, there was another matter of how she felt towards him. There was a little voice in her mind that persisted, telling her that she more than tolerated his company.

She enjoyed it.

Before she knew it, she was sitting with Jafar, both now clean after walking around in the hot sun all day. He looked very nice tonight, his beard freshly trimmed and his clothes a nice shade of black and red, colors that he wore more often than any other.

Because she hated him for so long, Jasmine never truly considered that Jafar had his own allure before until now, with his low voice and his charisma that he seemed to perfect through the years. She always knew in the back of her mind, but now she was fully admitting it to herself. It only made sense. After all, he was regarded with the utmost respect by even her parents.

"Something wrong?" He asked, pausing to tilt his head at her curiously.

Jasmine realized in horror that she was staring at him, thinking about whether she found him attractive or not. She cleared her throat. "No, nothing is wrong. I just find this whole situation bewildering."

"How so?" He slowly took a bite of some rice, licking his fingers, the sauce disappearing behind his lips.

Jasmine's cheeks grew hot. Why the hell was this happening to her? And why Jafar of all men? She took a few breaths to clear her mind, to ask him the questions she really wanted to ask. "I appreciate very much that you came with me outside the palace today. It was as valuable experience and your guidance has proven to be more than helpful."

Jasmine paused, at a complete loss for words. He was staring at her intently, trying to read her without the usual irritation or malice in his eyes. As if he was seeing her for the first time and not as if he'd known her for eleven years. "I sense there is a 'but' in that sentence."

"No, not a 'but,' more of an 'and why.' After our... conversation about women in society, specifically Agrabah, why did you suggest to Father to allow me to venture outside the palace?"

He stopped eating, looking to the side for a while. Just when Jasmine was sure that he wasn't going to answer, Jafar spoke. "I had a good think after our conversation last week. I was thrown back to the past when you first saw me play my lute, the same day that you were denied the first chance to venture out of your home. You said to me that 'Maybe if men didn't make the world so unsafe for women, I wouldn't have to worry.' At the time, I dismissed you because I believe that you should do what you can, to control your actions instead of relying on others to do the right thing. Wouldn't you agree with that?"

Jasmine gave him the side eye, preparing herself to stand up for her beliefs. "To an extent, yes."

One thing she learned from her time being underestimated by everyone in the palace: listen and gather as much information as possible before speaking out.

"And that's what I did to get to where I am today," he gestured to his ring, a gift from her father to signify his place as Grand Vizier. "Then last week, you said that I, 'of all people, should understand that education should be for everyone, so that those who have hidden talents would not stay hidden.' I believed that statement to come out of selfishness and your own perspective. I now realize that yes, it _is_ from your perspective because you are here, unable to see the world. And that is not your fault. You do not understand the true extent of the struggles of your people, no matter how many reports you read and how much research you do. You have many talents, and it would be a waste and a disservice for you to stay cooped up here."

Jasmine never heard him speak to her so precisely, so fully. He always responded quickly with intent to mock her or to shoo her away.

The only time he didn't was in the garden after her mother had passed.

"That is... very insightful of you." Jasmine settled. "I am grateful for that. Thank you for putting in a good word to my father."

"There is something else," he interrupted her. "When you said that the world is not safe for women, that men should do more to make it safe, it struck a chord in me. It brought me back to my days as a peasant, seeing that even if I did no wrong, some rich person could pay their way to rise above me easily. It should not be the same for women. I will take your words into account to hold the abusers accountable and not the victims."

At least, this was a step in the right direction. "You still think women are in a way, inferior to man?"

It wasn't a question she asked with her usual fire, but with resigned frustration.

"In some things, perhaps," he answered honestly. "I'm in the process of rethinking my stance. However, it is a shame that intelligent women should be denied opportunities just because of their sex. An exceptional person should not be denied a seat for someone mediocre, man or woman."

"Like my mother?" Jasmine challenged.

Jafar closed his eyes, exhaling loudly. "I prefer to not look to the past."

"It's important to look to the past so that you may do better in the future," she said determinedly.

Pondering on her reasoning, Jafar leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. "To answer your question, yes. Especially your mother."

Another round of silence before Jafar spoke some more. "You must realize that I was young and brash."

"You were twenty-five years old at the time," Jasmine pointed out, doing the calculation in her head. "You were nearly a decade older than I am now."

"It's different, women mature quicker than men. Even so, I should not have said those things to your mother. I said them out of frustration towards your father."

"So you took it out on her, a woman who had been nothing but kind to you."

"Yes."

His candidness was refreshing. Jasmine found herself admiring him. She knew too many men who would not admit their wrongs, saying that it was a sign of weakness and here was the proudest man she knew, openly admitting to her what he did was wrong.

"If I could take back those words, I would," he looked at her with regret. "Your mother is one of the kindest people to me. I believe that had she lived, she would be doing much more in improving the kingdom."

"Even as a woman?"

"Especially as a woman. She would bring things into perspective to the men around her." He gestured to Jasmine. "Like yourself."

After that dinner, the frostiness between the princess and the grand vizier disappeared nearly overnight. They were still not warm to each other, but they were now giving each other their due respect without faking things.

* * *

At age 18, Jasmine was in the library, trying to come up with a new plan of chasing ridiculous suitors away.

She hated being the only child of her father, and a woman at that. If she was a male, she would be a sultan in the future and would have the pick of any woman. If she was the younger sister of a male heir or even a female heir, she would be able to court men who wanted her for who she was as she would not have a lot of political power.

As the only daughter, she was only going to court men who were not expected to rule their own kingdoms, so she was bombarded with ridiculous suitors who were power-hungry for a chance to rule or needed something for their egos.

"Something troubling you, Princess?"

Jasmine looked over her book to see Jafar, scanning for a book himself. "You know, you have much to celebrate. Your interest in irrigation systems has helped the farmers and now we have been doing better with food shortages."

She scowled but there was a sparkle in her eyes from his compliment. She studied hard and listened to the people as well as the scientists, now that she was able to leave the palace. Things were slowly looking up for her as she was bringing her influence to the people of Agrabah.

"You know why I'm troubled," she mumbled. "Although, I can't say I'm unhappy about the irrigation system. As long as I can be of good influence, I am happy. Those farmers and scientists deserve their credit as well."

"Ah yes, you're upset about Prince Nadir. Of course." He found his book, coming to sit on a table near her. "I take it that you didn't find it charming when he lied about his scientific expertise?"

"I don't like liars." Jasmine closed the book. "Or princes who are here for their personal gain."

"Is marriage not a personal gain? For companionship, among other things?"

"It involves so much more when it determines the next ruler of Agrabah. You know this."

He smirked. "Glad to hear that you've discarded your notions of marrying for love."

"I haven't truly done that." Jasmine drummed her fingers on the book. "I would like it to happen, but I also want to find a good sultan. One who would care for the people. To leave things better than when they came here. A man I would respect then maybe love will follow. If possible, I wouldn't marry unless it was for love and I would rule Agrabah alone, but we both know that's not possible."

Jafar looked like he was about to make some snide comment when he saw her resigned face. She may be a woman now, but she was still very young. He remembered what he was like at her age, feeling some empathy. "A marriage without love can still be a happy marriage. You can enjoy friendship. Children. Common interests."

"I want what my parents had," she sighed. "I know I'm lucky enough that my father even takes my opinions of a suitor into consideration instead of arranging my marriage to the first person he finds interesting. I'm sure you recall that first suitor of mine."

Jafar groaned at that. The first suitor was the worst. Rude, arrogant, and knowing next to nothing about politics. He waved his flashy gold and pets to the sultan who would have promised him Jasmine if he did not let the matter of her husband be her own choice as arents can still arrange marriages for their children. "Lucky for Agrabah as well," he massaged his temple.

He saw that Jasmine was studying him. She tilted her head curiously. "Why aren't you married, Jafar? Do you see it as a necessary evil for people like me and not one that can bring happiness?"

The grand vizier chuckled. "Me? I have no need for a wife. If I want companionship, I can find it. I would love my own children but I don't feel the strong desire to have one. I do see it as a necessary evil for you, but it doesn't have to be a bad thing if you find someone who treats you well."

"But you won't even marry for love?"

She had no idea why she was asking him. It's true that in the past few years, after their big fight about women and him accompanying her out of the palace, they had gotten more comfortable around each other, but they were far from close. He still saw her as impulsive and stubborn, she still saw him as arrogant and dismissive. Jasmine understood why he turned up his charm to suck up to her father, for the sultan really was an inadequate ruler, but she still hated the snake-like manipulations that he used.

For her to ask him such a personal question was unlike her, to say the least.

Jafar too put his book down and folded his arms. "You are asking very deep questions of me today, Princess."

"Should I not learn from the self-proclaimed, most intelligent man in all of Agrabah?" Jasmine smiled a little.

She enjoyed that deep chuckle that came from his chest, glad that she was wearing a longer robe today as she felt goosebumps scurrying up her arms when he chuckled low. "You say self-proclaimed, but you know it's true." He looked to the side in thought. "Not everyone finds romantic love. Not everyone is happy with romantic love. I am content where I am at. Maybe I would be different if I had ever been in love."

"You've never been in love?"

"Never. There were times that I thought I was, especially my younger years. Now, I realize that it was nothing but lust. Well, almost nothing. Maybe it was also had a bit of some care for that person."

The way he started at her with his dark eyes made Jasmine want to squirm. In that moment, she had an image of him whispering into her neck, showing her exactly what it would be like to have that kind of lust.

Woah. Where did _that_ idea come from?

She swallowed, hard. "Lust?"

He blinked. "I apologize, Princess. It's improper for me to speak of such things with you."

He didn't seem to mean it though, saying the words more out of decorum than anything else.

"No, it's alright," she said quickly, looking at her hands. His eyes were too intense for her. "Thank you for being forthcoming. I am an adult now, no longer a child. To hear wisdom from you on such a subject is better than hearing it from the lewdness of servants."

Jafar frowned. Even before their argument about women's place in the world, he felt it was utterly unfair that noble women shied away from the topic of sex, leaving their daughters unprepared for the process and causing issues in said marriage. As if pleasure was a sin. "I'm glad that I did not offend you."

She looked at the sun, standing up. "Not at all, in fact, I appreciate the honesty. However, I must head to dinner. You certainly have distracted me from the grievous process that is dealing with incompetent suitors. I bid you good day."

* * *

At age 20, Jasmine was on the balcony of her room, reading a book. Not just any book.

The Kama Sutra.

She was even closer to finding a husband, or so she hoped, and she wanted to be ready. She had turned away an incredible amount of suitors in the past few years. If the marriage did not include being sultan, she was sure that no more suitors would come after her. Instead, they saw her as a prize to be won, to outdo all the other suitors.

She turned another page. It had taken a long time to procure her own copy as she wanted this to remain a secret. Considering how she didn't have a real friend or someone she could truly trust with all of her heart, Jasmine wasn't exactly keen on letting people know that she wanted this book or that she even had it.

The book was absolutely fascinating. It wasn't just a book on sex as many claimed it to be. It was a guide to the nature of love, emotional fulfillment, and finding happiness in that area of life. Jasmine knew from servant talk that sex was mainly a man's pleasure, that if women chose to partake in it for the sake of it, it was extremely taboo. As if it lessened her purity.

To be fair, she wasn't feeling very pure right now. The book excited her, even giving her help in suggesting techniques to her self exploration so that she could feel that release without a man. Even now, she wanted to touch herself.

She swung her leg back and forth as she read, accidentally knocking the lamp over. Cursing, she went to reach it. As she did, the book fell from her lap, between the bars of the balcony...

...And on the ground below.

"Damn it," Jasmine swore. She thought for a moment about getting it, then decided that she should. Even if the guards saw her, she could just say that she was talking a midnight stroll around her own home. If she waited until tomorrow, someone else may find it first. She read it here instead of in her room, fearful that her father or a servant may come in and see it. Here, she could hear anyone who would come through the door and have the chance to put said book away.

Covering her head and relighting her lamp, the princess walked down to where the book should have been.

It wasn't there.

She could scarcely breathe.

"I believe that this is yours."

She felt her throat tighten at the low drawl of a voice. _Fuck. Why him? Couldn't it just be some servant who couldn't read Sanskrit?_

She was about to run, thinking that maybe she could pass as a servant if her face was hidden.

"Princess Jasmine," the voice was closer now. "This is yours. I saw it fall from the balcony."

Jasmine kept a passive face and turned around. She knew that this would be better in the long term now that he knew who she was. "Thank you, Jafar."

She reached for the book, but he pulled his hand back. "How did you procure this?"

Of course he would ask instead of letting her leave with the small amount of dignity that she still had. "I am not entitled to tell you that."

"No, but I am curious all the same." He traced the cover with his index and middle finger. "For a princess to be in possession of this tome would rise an uproar, especially if she's the one choosing the next Sultan of Agrabah."

He was obscured by the dark shadows from the trees, but Jasmine still felt the heat of his eyes on her body. He was close enough now that she could smell the incense on him. She hated her body for reacting to the way he towered over her and his deep voice washing over her.

"Is that a threat?" Her eyes flashed with anger, but Jafar continued to not be worried by her.

"No, not at all." He moved so that the book was illuminated in the moonlight. "My point was that you must have been very careful to get this. Tell me how and I will give it back to you."

That bastard.

Jasmine folded her arms. "And what will you do if I don't? Will you tell all of Agrabah that it's mine?"

Jafar moved even closer to her, but still at a respectable distance. She could see his chest rise and fall.

Jasmine told herself that the overwhelming feeling of desire to tear his clothes off was a result of reading such sexual content earlier, not because of Jafar himself. Instead of the feeling fading, it compounded. The tenderness of her breasts, thefiery throb between her legs demanded to be doused. Only her release could give her that.

"I wouldn't do such a thing," he gazed at the book again, giving her a bit of reprieve from his heated eyes. "Even if I wanted to, I would not have proof that it's yours. I would be seen as a dishonorable man for trying to discredit you."

She was surprised to hear that he wouldn't do that to her. Jafar, while he was a man of his own kind of honor, would keep tabs on secrets so that he had a hold over others should the need ever arise. Would he keep his word?

Then again, he was holding the book hostage from her, so Jasmine supposed that he was a snake after all.

"You know what my father is like, not exactly careful or thorough in record keeping." She glanced at the balcony where he slept. "I was able to get this under his name."

"I have a feeling that there's more to it."

"Of course there was, I couldn't let the transaction be known in the records. I did it through a few people, writing letters to some in exchange for a certain amount of money."

She said enough that he got the point, but kept it vague enough so he wouldn't know all the specific steps.

"I see," he drawled, his voice causing another burst of wetness from between her legs. "For the record, I do not think you less for this. If anything, I admire you for it."

"Huh," was all Jasmine said.

"Women should know more about their bodies, about the pleasure that a sexual connection can bring. It is a shame that our society is too taboo for that kind of thing to be taught about publicly if it does not tie into procreation."

He was even closer to her now, holding the book behind his back. "Take advantage of this opportunity as much as you can, to learn your body and all you can enjoy from it."

Jasmine found herself licking her lips, amazing that she was still able to speak, as most of the blood in her brain left to pool down low in her abdomen. "I am glad to hear that you do not find it wrong or distasteful for me to read this."

"Not at all." He was so close to her that their chests were almost touching. "I believe that all marriages and relations would be happier if one would learn more about pleasure."

"The book is more than that though," Jasmine could feel his husky breath by her ear. "The book also talks about love, about emotional well-being."

"Ah, love," he chuckled lowly. "I know it exists but as you know, I've yet to experience it-"

"Halt! Who's there?"

Jasmine practically jumped away from Jafar at hearing a guard question them. She was still hazy from the overwhelming arousal that was coursing through her body. Jafar, on the other hand, looked very focused.

The guards ran to them. "Oh, Princess Jasmine, Grand Vizier Jafar. We thought there were intruders."

"No, just us," Jafar said lightly. He handed the book to Jasmine, making sure that the front cover was hidden from the guards. "She was reading on her balcony and dropped the book. I happened to be exploring the grounds, as I am restless tonight. We just... bumped into each other."

"Of course." They bowed. "Shall we escort you in?"

"No need," Jafar offered his arm to Jasmine. "I will escort the princess in myself."

"I can do that just fine, thank you for your kindness," Jasmine said automatically. If she held onto his arm, she may not survive he embarrassment. "Our chambers are in different areas of the palace anyway."

"Very well," Jafar nodded to her.

"I bid you goodnight then, Grand Vizier. Guards." Jasmine nodded her head.

"Goodnight, Princess." Jafar inclined his head. He made sure that she could see him as he smirked. "I hope that you will enjoy the book and the experiments it outlines."

Her nostrils flared, seeing him walk away.

Jasmine broke into a run as soon as the guards and Jafar were out of sight. She climbed in her bed and stashed the book in a drawer, the raging arousal still creating a fire in her.

Lowering her hand inside of her pants, she moaned into the night as she felt her clitoris, the wetness coating it.

She couldn't get Jafar's face out of her head. Or his scent. Or the way he looked at her. Or how he emerged from the moonlight.

It didn't take long for her to find her release, gasping into a pillow.

* * *

The next day, Jasmine avoided eye contact with Jafar as much as possible. Jafar, on the other hand, was studying her intently.

He could see the way she was flushed when he spoke to her last night. He did not intend to rise her arousal, but he couldn't help it. The princess was beautiful. But more than that, she had that fire in her that surrounded her, ensnaring his own feelings of arousal.

He could smell her perfume, could picture her touching herself as she read Kama Sutra. Unable to sleep, he touched himself, imagining that it was her cunt he was fucking into and her mouth on his cock. Today, he was exhausted from the lack of sleep and from Jasmine's image dancing in his eyes.

When she was a child, he had seen her as that: a child. Even when she was 16, of marriageable age, he did not see her as an equal. He had felt sorry for her, being cooped up in the palace without her freedom. He also felt a bit of admiration for her music skills and desire to take control of a situation instead of staying content with the attention she got from suitors.

But then, when she was eighteen and had already turned away many suitors, he began to see the good qualities in her truly blossom. Her kindness. Her assertive nature in coming to meetings to really do good by the people, to include their voices in the decision-making process. The way that she thought out her actions and ability to talk to people. Her empathy.

He could charm people, whereas Jasmine was sincere in all that she did.

And then, last night. Last night, he really saw her as she was.

A woman.

He was fifteen years her senior, first meeting when he twenty years old, her current age. From the start, there had been friction and debates between them even when she was that young. Sometimes insults and baits. Sometimes even disarming acts of charm and sincere conversations about life.

And now, lust.

He went into the music room to try to pass the time before another meeting, to clear his head and to keep his hands busy. Music was the balm to his often troubled soul, tempering him and bringing his life into perspective, keeping him calmer and with less of a temper than what he could be.

Inside, he found something that made him the opposite of calm.

Or rather, someone.

Jasmine was at his qanun, the same one that she had given to him for his birthday four years ago. It was still his, but he placed in the music room, in case anyone else wanted to try to play it. The only condition was that if he wanted to play, they had to immediately leave.

She clearly had no idea how to play it, trying to pluck the strings to test the sounds.

Jafar abandoned his goal of clearing his head, instead deciding that there was something better in front of him. He cleared his throat. "Hello, Princess."

Jasmine froze in her seat. She had been too engrossed in her own mind that she didn't even detect him coming inside. Jafar smirked, eyeing the way her hair cascaded around the soft curve of her neck and down her back. He always knew he had the ability to make her furious, but to cause her to become completely speechless? This was new and very, very exciting.

He shouldn't be surprised. He charmed many of the castle servants with his own charisma and was often approached by women for sexual pleasures.

"Hello, Jafar," Jasmine replied. He could hear that she was keeping her voice detached as best as she could, but not good enough.

Jasmine felt like a child being caught doing something naughty, even though she wasn't doing anything wrong.

When she woke up that morning, she did not feel relaxed at all. Instead, the burning sensation in her grew the more she thought of Jafar. Not wanting to be near him for fear of losing her control, she avoided his eye contact as much as she could. Oh, how she wished that The Kama Sutra had something about how to stop being so aroused! Maybe it was in a section that she had yet to read.

In between meetings, she decided to come to the music room. She saw Jafar's qanun there, the one that she had gifted him for his birthday a few years ago. In her own trance, Jasmine came to touch it, knowing that Jafar's hands had been on them, imagining that she was caressing his body instead of the strings. It was the second best thing besides touching him directly.

When he said hello, she wanted the earth to open up and swallow her whole. Instead, she kept her voice as even as possible, closing her eyes in shame when she heard the waver.

"I'm surprised you don't know how to play it," he sat down right next to her.

More insults. Just what she needed.

"Why's that? I've never taken lessons," she said.

"Considering how you learned to play the lute yourself through nothing but an instruction manual and general music theory, I would have expected you to learn this."

"I just haven't had the time to practice." She wanted to stop playing it but if she stopped, then she was afraid her hands would start grabbing him. "When I learned to play the lute, I was younger, with less responsibilities. Unable to leave the palace, if you recall."

"I believe that's your doing, and you could go back to that." Jafar felt a little dizzy, overwhelmed by her. Jasmine's spirit just drew him in even more. Objectively, yes, he had probably seen women more beautiful than her. Even bedded them. But they didn't occupy his mind over and over like Jasmine did.

Beauty, after all, was in the mind of the beholder.

"I would rather not. I would give up my musical ambitions to serve my people, as I was born to do," was her fierce answer as she continued to pluck the strings.

Jafar smirked. "Your form is all wrong. Keep doing it that way and you'll tire easily."

"That means nothing to me if I don't know how to *actually* do it right," she turned her head from him. "You're very good at learning, not so much teaching apparently."

He raised an eyebrow, sensing her challenge. He put his hands on hers, one of his arms snaking around to the other side. "Here's how to do it."

He curved her small hand under his much longer fingers. Jasmine held back the shiver as his chest came closer to her back, trying to pay attention to his words. "Like this?" She asked as he guided her finger to try a few notes.

"That's it." Jafar said, his head coming beside hers. "Watch how I do it."

He showed her a few movements, getting her to try the same. He could feel his cock hardening underneath his robes, but he didn't care. The soft skin of her hands were too delicious to not touch. Besides, he was enjoying teaching her and watching how quickly she picked up the instrument. "You have a natural talent for music."

"Thank you," Jasmine said breathlessly.

Jafar felt her shaking in his arms. "Are you alright, Princess?"

Jasmine nodded, unable to control her shivering. He was so, _so_ close. "I'm fine, thank you for asking." The words fell from her lips automatically.

Jafar tilted her face to his. "You are flushed, my dear."

Jasmine's breath got stuck in her throat. He had never called her that, even as a child he stayed away from cute names of affection. "It will admit, it does feel a bit warm in here."

His hand turned, the back of his fingers touching her cheek. "You do feel a bit warm."

This was the point of no return. Jasmine could choose to agree that she was unwell. She could choose to put this kind of interaction with him to rest. Instead, she swallowed the last bit of nervousness, wanting to convince him and herself that she was doing this of her own volition and not because her body was completely out of control. "But not unpleasantly so."

Jafar raised his eyebrows ever so slightly. His hand caressed her cheek down to her jaw, his thumb brushing against her bottom lip, a spell overcoming the both of them as the temperature increased. Jasmine leaned closer to him, her chest rising with each large breath.

They locked eyes, studying each other. Jafar was thinking of how bold she was, how much he found that quality irresistible. Jasmine was thinking of how much she wanted to unleash her repressed desires and how wet she was for him.

Jafar's hand cascaded down to her neck, a tingling sensation traveling up her spine. Seeing as she wasn't moving away from him, he leaned down and placed his lips on her neck.

Jasmine gripped his shoulders, feeling his tongue slowly trace to her collarbone. She gasped when his grip on her neck and lower back tightened. She felt rather than heard the growl in his throat, continuing to work his mouth down her chest. She swung a leg over, sitting directly in his lap.

Jafar gripped her tight as she gyrated against his erection. Her hands explored his body, desperate to take his clothes off and have him take her right then and there.

Eventually, they did just that. After using their hands to explore the other person's body, their clothing was quickly removed. Soon, Jasmine's back was on the floor, her pants were off her legs and Jafar was poised, ready to be inside of her.

He hesitated for a moment. Of all women, Jasmine was the one woman that he wasn't supposed to have have. Not when she was to marry a prince, virginity intact for her husband.

He told himself that he worked too hard to be where he was, that if Jasmine's disgrace came to the public, that would mean that he would be cast out of his position and if their relationship went sour, his position of power as grand vizier would be gone by her order. That was all he cared about, nothing more.

It was the only lie that he had ever said, even to himself.

Jasmine held his face, trying to push herself onto him. "Jafar..."

He could not ignore her crying his name. Pushing himself, he impaled her with one strong thrust, feeling her hymen break and her vagina stretching to accommodate him. Jasmine pulled him close, screaming into his shoulder to lower the volume of her pain. Jafar didn't dare to move.

It was so difficult not to, for she was incredibly wet and warm around her. He held her, keeping still as long as he could.

After a moment, she pulled back, moving her hips a little, clearly still sore. Jafar guided her unsure movements with his hands, one of them holding her hip. He wasn't going to last very long, lowering his hand to her clit and fingering her.

"Jasmine!" He moaned in her ear as he felt her coming apart around him. When she finished, he pulled out of her, making a mess on his robes. He quickly waved his snake staff over the mess, using magic to make it disappear.

Jasmine turned away from him, still shaking a bit as she straightened her clothing. She found him holding his hand to her, already dressed.

What now? What did this mean? Would it just be a one-time thing to find their release or did he expect more? What would happen to her reputation now?

"Don't you have a meeting to go to?" She found herself asking, not taking his hand. "Won't you be late?"

Jafar frowned. "Yes, I do. Let me help you up."

Unable to deny herself, Jasmine ended up accepting his hand. Somehow, this act of holding his hand was much more intimate than the sex they just had.

To her surprise, Jafar leaned down to kiss her hand, never taking his eyes off of her. "I bid you good day, Jasmine."

It occurred to her that this was the second time that he said her name without the word "Princess" in front of it. It felt oddly sweet. "You too, Jafar."

He made his way to the door, his head still reeling from the intimacy that they shared.

"Jafar?" Jasmine crooned.

Jafar paused, unable to help himself but smile. "Yes, Jasmine?"

"I will see you tonight for dinner. And... maybe after as well."

He pretended to consider this, relishing in her seductive voice and hooded dark eyes. "Yes, I look forward to it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm most nervous for this chapter, as I hope that it shows Jafar's and Jasmine's growing attraction and respect increase. I hope that you like this chapter and I am of course, grateful for any reviews and kudos left! Thanks!


	3. The Illicit Affair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're wondering, Jasmine and Jafar have a 15 year age gap, so still pretty significant but not as much as the animated cartoon suggests. I'm thinking Jasmine and Jafar first meet when she was maybe 5, so very young but he doesn't become Grand Vizier until later, when he's 25 or so. Sorry for the delay, this chapter gave me so many headaches lol.

At age 21, Jasmine was laying naked next to Jafar, looking up at the ceiling and feeling incredibly guilty.

He stroked her hair gently. "What's on your mind, O Gorgeous One?"

Jasmine was instantly brought out of her melancholy state, bursting into laughter, slapping him playfully. "You're never going to stop teasing me about that, are you?"

"It gets your attention, so it does work." He smiled when she did, catching her hand that tried to smack him and giving each finger a kiss.

"You should be making fun of Prince Rashid for saying something so ridiculous, not me." She tried to sound annoyed but ended up sighing with content as her fingers tingled from touching his lips.

"Prince Radish-"

"Rashid."

"-Prince _Radish_ does not deserve any time from me. Disgusting animal."

"You and your pet names for everyone."

"But we both know that my pet name for you is your favorite," he purred into her ear. "Isn't that right, _Pussycat?_ "

Jasmine felt goosebumps cascading all the way from her neck to the rest of her body, but the guilt still ate at her. "I don't feel like doing it again right now."

Jafar sighed but placed a kiss on her neck, laying on his side, looking down on her. "As you wish. Something is bothering you. Answer my original question."

Jasmine scratched the bottom of his chin affectionately, feeling his beard. "Alright. But let me tell the whole thing. Otherwise you may be offended."

Jafar raised an eyebrow but shrugged. "Proceed."

He propped himself on his elbow, looking straight in her eyes. Jasmine was always astounded at how intense his gazes were, finding that she quite liked it.

"The anniversary of my mother's anniversary is today. I just... I'm the one who asked to see you and if you had asked me to visit you in your private room, it's not your fault either."

"Fault?" He inquired carefully.

"I can't think of a better word, but I mean for my feelings. It just feels horrible that I'm sad over her death and then had sex with you. It feels wrong and dirty."

But also not. In a way, it felt right. And she wasn't sure why.

Jafar sat up, stroking her hair. "You know what I've learned over the years? Sex is an interesting act that we perform. It's pleasure. It's connection. It's showing love. It's seen as dishonorable to do before marriage for women, which is unfair, as you've pointed out. It's used for procreation. There's nothing inherently wrong with it. And sometimes, Jasmine, when you grieve a life that's lost, the best to heal is to do the very act that creates it."

Jasmine paused, thinking about his words. "Wow, I never thought of it that way."

"Why would you? The idea that sex shouldn't be pleasurable is drilled into you. But I'm glad I could ease your conscience and be of comfort."

She smiled widely. When he wasn't being completely obnoxious about his intellect and arrogance, his words really made a difference in people's lives. People like herself.

Since that day in the music room, Jafar and Jasmine met privately to have sex every once in a while, usually finding each other at night. There was no official spoken agreement about it, just asking each other when the other person was available. It wasn't supposed to mean anything, just a way to find release and enjoy pleasure.

Jafar, a talented and experienced lover with Jasmine, a quick yet passionate study, made quite the pair. After their "sessions," they would often lay in bed and have the best chats, assuming they had time. Jasmine learned more about Jafar's past and he learned more about the woman she had become. Though he had known Jasmine for the majority of her life, he didn't know very much about who she was until she was older.

Something else that wasn't ever done: their lips never touched. It was too intimate, too emotional for them to venture there. A way to keep each other at arm's length. There were kisses on cheeks or on hands, sure. But never lips. Jasmine did not ask Jafar if he still visited brothels and he never asked if she took another lover, though they both knew that the other did.

And still, they found their way back to each other, for in each other, they could share a kind of burning passion that they could not find with anyone else.

Though no one knew the full extent of their relationship, people did see that the princess and the grand vizier became closer, even if they still egged each other on in public. They would spend time together in the music room, in the gardens, the library, and even conversing at parties beyond their usual obligation. Nothing enough to cause rumors, not even to safely call them friends, but enough for people to say that Jasmine was going to probably convince her future husband to keep Jafar as his grand vizier due to the respect she had for him.

Jasmine sat up, laying her head on his shoulder. "I was also thinking of doing something in her honor."

"And what would that be?"

"I know Father is planning on giving me my own garden and hers for my next birthday. Oh, don't look at me like that! I know you know, and you can be horrible at looking innocent."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Jafar grinned.

"Anyway," she continued. "As you know, Mother was very interested in people going hungry. She never liked the idea that some could have so much while others starved for basic needs. The gardens could be used as an agricultural testing center, trying different breeds of plants and then saving the grain. We could also feed people by giving them plants, educate them with how to care for said plants."

"Fascinating idea, but how would we educate them?"

"We could hire teachers to learn and go back to their own communities. Invite children to come and see for themselves. Just an idea."

"Your mother would be proud, Jasmine." He held her hand. "I believe that she would fully support you."

"And you?" Jasmine laid her hand on his chest, slowly caressing his upper body.

"You know I support you when you have good ideas."

That was all she needed to hear.

* * *

At age 22, Princess Jasmine was once again in her mother's garden, looking towards the horizon at the setting sun.

Grand Vizier Jafar sat next to her. "How is he?"

Jasmine sniffed, wiping a tear away. "Not well. He's getting worse and they doctors say that he may be gone in the next few weeks. I almost regret not marrying earlier, so that I could give him grandchildren. There were... acceptable princes. Maybe I am too picky."

Jafar put his arm around her, the familiar feeling of his touch calmed her anxious heart. "No, you're not picky. If anyone can afford to be picky, it's you," he whispered, kissing the top of her head.

He handed her a handkerchief to wipe her tears away. "Jasmine, I just want to say that despite what I said about your father in the past about him ruling, I will say that he is a good man. He deserves to live longer and not be so ill."

She looked down at their reflections in the fountain. "Thank you. That's very kind of you."

Jafar moved his hand off her shoulders, hearing the guards making their rounds.

Her voice came out small. "I hate that I have to think of this, but I know that when my father... you know..." she let the unsaid word hang in the air. "When it happens, I will be vulnerable until I marry. And you know that it's distasteful to have a wedding within the year of a family death."

"It would give you more time to find a husband, to maybe prove your ability to rule without a man's influence."

"No, Jafar, you don't understand," Jasmine shook her head. "I need to get married before he passes."

Jafar stilled. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I'm planning on sending a letter to Prince Ali of Rucia to accept his marriage proposal."

He bit the inside of his cheek, moving away from her. "Why him? He's weak. He's lazy. He has wandering eyes as well."

"You think I haven't considered that?" She snapped, then grimaced at the sharpness of her tone. "That's by design."

Jafar rubbed his temple, sighing. "And what design would that be? How is he any better than your other suitors?"

He cared because he was worried for Jasmine and Agrabah. He was also worried about his place as Grand Vizier, he had done a lot to keep his place there. That's why her choice of a husband mattered to him, and that was it.

At least, that's what he told himself.

This was the second lie he ever said.

"He can be the figurehead, give me children and I will do most of the work. His sexual appetites will distract him so he doesn't take my place. Besides, he's quite wealthy. That wealth will do so much for Agrabah. The people will like him. Unlike many of the other suitors, Ali is charming and friendly, and he'll not interfere with out work."

It occurred to Jafar that Ali was much like the current sultan: easy to control, something that made his work easy and difficult. Still, this decision didn't sit right with him. "So your plan is to have him take credit for all your hard work?"

"Do I really have a choice?" Jasmine shook her head at him. "I'm a woman in a man's world. You know as well that it's the best that I can do. The next best alternative is a husband who will do what's good for the kingdom and get said credit anyway. At least this way, I can still have my freedom and the ability to actually rule."

"What about someone who would be your equal?" Jafar suggested. "Someone who would respect you, who would treat you well, and even love you?"

Jasmine barked a laugh. "My equal? What is equal in a world where I'm seen as the weaker sex? Jafar, aren't you the person who said that my ideas of love were lofty and admired me for taking it out of the equation? Didn't you also tell me to stop thinking of myself and to be more selfless? I'm trying to be that person!"

"I just feel like you're lowering the bar for a husband after having it set so high."

"And I feel like you're questioning my decisions on the limited freedom my life has given me."

"Yes, _I am_ ," he snarled.

They sat there, glaring at each other.

"Watch your tongue, _vizier_ ," Jasmine snarled. "Or you will find yourself without a position in this palace when my father is gone."

She didn't mean it. Not really. The last thing she wanted to do was to send him away from her, but she hoped that the threat would shut him up.

She cared for Jafar deeply. She was already coming to her own, to be independent and assertive but he helped quite a bit. Whether he was trying to or just him being there challenged her to outdo him, Jasmine didn't know. Not that it mattered, for she wanted him to stay. To counsel her, to be her lover. Her friend.

There was another word on the tip of her tongue that reflected exactly what she wished form him, but it was impossible. So she shut her mind whenever it dared to cross in front of her.

Jafar's lips pursed together. In the past, Jasmine would have taken it to mean that he was even more angry. After knowing him, she knew now that it meant that he was hurt.

After a particularly painful minute, he finally spoke. "Is that how you see me? As someone who is disposable?"

"Not you, but your place as Grand Vizier, yes," Jasmine clarified. "You as a person are not disposable. Every person is important. Isn't that the whole point of bettering Agrabah?"

Something felt wrong. As if there was something else that he wasn't telling her. And she didn't like it, she didn't like secrets being kept about her.

"And you would have me go?" Jafar hissed. Coming from him, it should have been terrifying, but Jasmine could see the cloud of uncertainty behind his eyes. She wanted nothing more than to hold him at the moment, barely restraining herself from doing so.

"If you try to force me on how to make my own life choices, then yes," she reasoned. "I value you. I value your counsel, but at the end of the day, this is my life. No one should make that decision but me. I need you to respect that."

"I didn't try to force you to do anything. I didn't threaten you." He stood. "I have never said anything or have any kind of hold on you that would jeopardize your place as the future sultana. You, on the other hand, have done all those things."

"You do have a hold on me." Jasmine gestured to them both. "Our relationship, for one. What makes you so against my marriage to Prince Ali? You are withholding something from me, I can tell."

"Is that so, _Princess_?" Sarcasm dripped in every syllable.

"Don't play innocent. It's beneath me."

"You claim that you value my counsel. You didn't even seem to trust me enough to tell me about your decision accept Prince Abubu's proposal."

"I told you now, and I haven't done it yet. Also, mispronouncing his name is not going to gain you any favors, Jafar."

"Regardless, you don't fully trust me. Am I wrong?"

Jasmine closed her eyes, head angling away from him. She knew that her silence was more painful than any words she could have thrown at him.

Jafar scoffed, both hands gripping his snake staff to the point where he almost broke it. "After all we've been through together. After all our conversations. What more do I have to do to convince you that I don't mean you harm?"

"Do you blame me?" Jasmine wanted to shake him. "You have cheated and killed your way to the top-"

"I did what was necessary, I killed those who who would have cause more pain to Agrabah!" Every word hit her like a slap to the face. "I never cheated aside from that, but yes, I have killed those who were dangerous. Those who are violent, who abuse children, who have hitmen, rapists, and more. I have never taken the life of an innocent. Don't tell me that you'd rather one of those befriend your easily impressionable father and become the Grand Vizier."

"Of course not," she conceded, exasperated. "And I do trust you just... just..."

She couldn't figure out what she wanted to say. Jasmine wanted to cry. "That's not fair, Jafar."

He folded his eyes, not moved by her obvious distress. "You trust me to to a certain extent, whereas you know about my past dealings with people that could cause my enemies to come after me, dealings that I trust you with. Now _that's_ unfair."

"And like I said, if you told people like my future husband of our illicit affair, I could get branded a whore. And you know what happens to whores, especially whores who are ex-royalty. Only my father would protect me and he's about to die!"

She burst into tears in front of him.

Jasmine hated crying, especially in front of others. Hated seeming weak. Hated showing the loss of control of her emotions in front of Jafar. Despite all her father's flaws, she at least she knew she was safe with him. With Jafar, she was safe to a degree. If it meant saving his own skin, she was sure that he would not hesitate to have her thrown to the dungeons.

"I'm tired of arguing with you," she sniffed as she wiped her tears. Her only consolation was seeing him look uncomfortable when she cried. "We can go around in a circle all we want. You don't trust me either. Not that I blame you, this is a harsh world. We can only trust in ourselves. But you're not allowed to be a hypocrite about it."

She walked away, leaving Jafar stunned and broken inside.

The skies were darkening. He took a seat once more, watching the sky turn pink, contemplating his relationship with Jasmine. He cared for her and enjoyed the sexual company that she gave him.

He hadn't completely trusted her, she was right. He was keeping something from her. So why did it hurt so much for her to be silent when he asked her if she trusted _him_?

Going back into the palace, he went to his secret office. A lab of sorts. Everyone assumed it was just scientific experiments that he played in there, but in truth, there was more.

It was also a lab for magic.

From a young age, Jafar knew that he had a knack for magic. He could say with great confidence that he was an incredibly powerful sorcerer, probably the most powerful sorcerer that he knew.

Unfortunately, sorcery was banned for many reasons, including the reasons that he used them for. He had no qualms against hypnotizing certain people, and it was less of mind control and more of an impression. Some were easier to hypnosis than others, including the sultan.

He told absolutely no one of his powers. A secret was a secret when no one else knew, after all. To protect his identity, anyone who saw him use his powers did not know his true name and he was always in disguise.

He had no one he wanted to trust, after being left an orphan at a young age with no one but his teachers giving him the kindness he needed to rise up to be where he was today.

But, after today, he forced himself to admit something that he had known for quite some time.

He was in love with Jasmine. Fully, wholeheartedly, _desperately_ in love with her.

He found her interesting and attractive for quite some time, but the love developed quietly in little moments. Moments when he saw her listen to a young child who asked her what it was like to live in the palace. Moments when she talked about the stars and her ideal world. Moments when they would play duets on their instruments. Moments when she would lay next to him after sex, telling him that she cared about him when he told her that he felt alone. Moments when she would show that she was just as cruel as she was compassionate, taking charge of the kingdom.

In his heart, he knew that he could trust her. That she would not betray him for power or greed. That she would only betray him if he hurt her.

The question was, did she feel the same?

* * *

Jasmine didn't even have to look up to know that Jafar was in her study. "I'm busy."

She wasn't really busy. Except she struggled all evening with whether she really wanted to send the letter to Prince Ali. Then Jafar had to fucking go all psycho on her.

Now alone, she was able to finally form a coherent thought of why Jafar's words hurt her so.

She loved him.

It was this all encompassing kind of love. The kind that included the times they held each other after sex, admiring each other. The times they comforted each other in times of distress just by sitting next to the other person. It also included times of passionate arguments that would end with being exasperated, but still full of respect.

Earlier tonight was none of these. She was wounded to the very core, feeling broken that he would expect her not take what she could when it came to a husband. To have some semblance of control in her life.

Why would he care? He didn't love her back.

"Have you contacted Prince Ali?" He asked as if she hadn't just shooed him off.

"None of your business." She opened a few scrolls to read. "I have looked at my decision carefully, and this is the best that I can do."

"No, because you don't know all the information." He stood in front of her desk. To Jasmine's surprise, he did not look mad like he usually would after such an argument. Not in the least bit. If anything, he looked a bit rushed, like he really did have something important to say, not just hurling more insults at Ali. "If you are to make the best decision, then you must know everything."

"And what is it that I don't know?"

He offered his hand to her. "It's better if I show you."

She raised an eyebrow. "I don't have time for games, Jafar."

"I know. This isn't a game. I promise."

She debated with herself on what to do, but her curiosity won. Jasmine took his hand and gasped when she found herself somehow suddenly in Jafar's science lab. "What- how-"

She felt Jafar steadying her from behind. Shuddering, Jasmine leaned over and threw up.

Jafar leaned over her, his snake staff pointed at the vomit to make it vanish.

Jasmine turned looked at him slowly.

Sorcery.

"You said that I had something to hide, that I didn't trust you either." He settled her down on a chair and handed her some water. "You are correct. I'm here to show you a secret that I have told no one. No one knows that I, Jafar, the Grand Vizier of Agrabah, am a sorcerer. No one, until you, Princess."

Jasmine didn't understand. "But, sorcery is illegal."

"That's why it's a secret."

Her head was still spinning. She had so, so many questions for him. Why sorcery? What did he use it for? What could he do with sorcery? How often did he use it? Did he use it against his enemies? Did he use it in the palace? How did he hide it so well?

But there was one question that took precedence. "What does trusting you have to do with me and Prince Ali?"

Jafar hoped that she would understand, that she would know and he would be able to hear a confession from her before he had to admit his own feelings. He wanted to tell her that he trusted her, that he wouldn't just trust anyone with his secret.

Instead, it came out like this: "Do I have to tell you everything? Are you so stupid that I have to spell everything out?"

Jasmine's face fell. Her voice came out quietly. "Why are you like this, Jafar?"

She turned around, hugging herself. "You, of all people, know me. You should know that I am occupied by grief. Occupied by pestering from everyone to marry and produce a male heir. You know that I feel so utterly lost, and when I need you most, you berate me. To answer your question, yes, you do have to tell me. I'm not in the right mind to decipher codes that spew out of your mouth. If you think that's stupid, then fine! I don't have the energy to argue with you or to play guessing games where you'll make fun of me for if I'm wrong. I'm tired. I'm overwhelmed. If you're not going to help me, then please, stay out of my way as I do my duty as princess and future sultana."

She stood, going to the window so that she could get some fresh air. "And before you ask, no, I won't tell anyone about your sorcery. I care for you too much to do that, as angry as I am at you. Why you care so much about trust from a stupid princess is beyond me. What also baffles me is that you aren't the kind of person who would go so far as to put yourself in jeopardy to prove the point of some argument. Perhaps you're just as stupid as me then by telling me about your sorcery."

Jasmine stood there for so long that she thought Jafar had just vanished. Her bottom lip trembled, fat ugly tears streaming down her face as she sobbed.

Sobbing because not only was she going to marry someone else, but because her father was going to die and Jafar now hated her. She didn't have very many true friends, and was now going to lose Jafar. Worse than that, because she loved him and knew how much of as asset he was to the kingdom, she wouldn't make him leave. She would see him daily, her heart aching for him as he bed other women. She would see his eyes at meetings. She would imagine Jafar's hands were touching her as her husband would be intimate with her. She would love her children, but wish that they were Jafar's and not Prince Ali's.

Jasmine was so far in her own world that she didn't even realize that Jafar wrapped his arms around her body, holding her close to his body, making soothing noises into her ear.

Despite being upset at him Jasmine wrapped her arms around him, sobbing into his chest. Jafar didn't stop his calming movements, making small circles into her back as she leaned against him.

"Jasmine," he said into her hair when her sobs stopped. "I'm sorry."

Jasmine could hardly believe it. He was apologizing. He would admit wrongdoing but to actually apologize, that was not something he did.

She looked up at him, her chin still on his chest. He didn't say anything else. He didn't need to.

Especially when his kiss said it all.

Jasmine gasped into the kiss, hardly believing it when he was slowly coaxing her to kiss him back. She obliged, trying to copy his movements as this was the first time she pressed her lips to someone else's. Jafar waited until she opened her lips, allowing his tongue to slip in.

Jasmine pushed her body even closer as his tongue slid against hers, caressing the roof of her mouth. She thought that her body desired his with an extreme need two years ago. It was nothing compared to the need for his kiss now.

Never had they been so tender with each other. It was almost always something furious and erotic, any softness happened when they laid next to each other speaking. Jafar moaned into the kiss, pouring his love into it as much as he could, hoping that she would understand. That she would feel the same. He smiled into their kiss, feeling her lips and tongue shyly but boldly explore his mouth. When she looked at him, he knew that he had to kiss her, to let her feel how much he cared for her.

When they finally pulled apart, Jafar pulled her to him, the sky turning blue, small stars dotting the sky once more. He wrapped her in his robes, keeping her warm.

"Jasmine?" He dared to break their comfortable silence.

"Yes, Jafar?" She answered back, her lips still tingling from their kiss.

"You're not stupid."

Jasmine broke out into a laughter at that. "I know, although it's nice to hear it." She sobered a bit. "I'm sorry that I didn't say that I trust you earlier. It's difficult to learn how to trust when I've had to fight my way through everything and have that self-preservation instill in me. I do trust you."

He just pulled her closer, resting his cheek on her head, still reeling from their first kiss together. This was more than he could ever hope for from her.

Jasmine felt her heart skip. It was now or never. Whatever happened after this will just happen, and she would deal with the consequences then. Life was too short to not take that chance. "Jafar?"

"Yes, my dear?"

He usually said it playfully or mockingly to her. Not tonight. Tonight, he said it with the deepest kind of affection.

"I love you."

His breath stopped, looking into her eyes. While Jasmine was a young woman with great maturity, she was still young enough to not be as burdened by the ruthlessness of the world the same way he had been. She still had the courage to open her heart in ways that he was still very hesitant to do.

He could hardly believe that a genie didn't just come and made all of his wishes come true.

Before Jafar could respond, they heard something fall. He instinctively pushed Jasmine behind him, using his own body as a shield. He held his snake staff in front. "Who's there?!"

Out of the shadows emerged Razoul, captain of the guard. He hand his sword out, pointing at Jafar. "I trusted you. Obeyed your orders to the letter. You have been manipulating the Princess the whole time, you're probably using sorcery right now to get her to love you!"

"Preposterous," Jafar sneered. "Love, real love cannot be recreated. It cannot be done with a spell. I did not hypnotize her or ever had. You have no reason to distrust me."

Razoul, being large and muscular, body slammed right into Jafar. The Grand Vizier's breath was knocked right out of him, the painful smashing of his body into the desk made Jasmine scream as if _she_ was the one being hurt.

"I don't believe you!" Razoul yelled. "Why would a beautiful, young princess fall for one as you?"

"Razoul, stand down!" Jasmine ran to stand by Jafar. If she wasn't so concerned for Jafar, she would have been fuming at the idea that she or Jafar were so superficial. "I'm old enough to make my own decisions. You are the one who has been hiding in his study! What do you have to say for yourself?"

Razoul's face changed, dawning with realization. "So, you chose to bed him? Willingly?"

"I do what I want! It's not for you to question!"

The slap came faster than she could have anticipated.

"You whore!" Razoul pushed her against the wall, his body covering hers. Jasmine cried as her head smashed against the wall, hard. "You're a princess who has betrayed her people by sullying yourself and knowingly aligning with a sorcerer!" To her horror, Razoul was grabbing her clothing with the intent to rip it off. "Shall we see how much of a whore you really are once I'm finished with you?"

"No, no!" She cried out, her head throbbing in pain.

Just as fast as Razoul's hands came to bruise her neck, Jafar yanked him off of her and knocked him to the floor.

Razoul's eyes widened at the unexpected strength Jafar exhibited. For a man who was tall and quite thin compared to him, Jafar was incredibly strong. Razoul gagged as the snake staff pushed against his throat, choking him. "Don't. Touch. Her."

Razoul found himself paralyzed from the neck down, unable to move any of his limbs. He tried to plead Jafar for mercy but words didn't come out of his mouth.

Still holding the staff, Jasmine watched as a glittering yellow aura came out of the staff and surrounded the captain, lifting him off the ground and into the air. The ruby eyes glowed, Razoul staring at them hypnotically.

Jafar spoke with a deathly calm that was a million times more terrifying than hearing him yell. "You will answer all of my questions truthfully. How long have you been spying on me?"

Razoul whimpered before answering. Such a change from his tough persona from earlier. "About one month."

"Why?"

"Because I saw you trying to put in your influence on Princess Jasmine's decision on her marriage. You never cared before, and you've changed. You've gone soft, Jafar, saying that she should be equal in a marriage. No woman is equal to us. I then followed you, I had an inkling you were seducing her, and now I know that you're trying to set yourself up as the future sultan!"

Jafar barked out a laugh. "Why do that when I am already the most powerful man in all of Agrabah? I don't need to be sultan to get what I have."

"You're evil! Turning the princess into a whore-"

Jafar chose that moment to use the staff to choke him again. "Don't you dare treat her with such disrespect, you hypocrite. I saw the way you pushed your body against hers. You're not worthy to kiss the ground she walks on!"

The last thing Razoul ever saw were Jafar's furious eyes cutting into his soul.

Jafar lowered his staff, Razoul's body falling. For good measure, he kicked the captain to make sure he was dead. "Pathetic vermin."

He put his hands against the wall, trying to get his bearings again. Doing magic made him exhausted, and this was no different.

After a moment, he turned to Jasmine, a dazed look in her eyes. "Jafar?"

He rushed to her side, dropping his staff as he took her face in his hands. "Jasmine, what's wrong?"

"My head hurts," she groaned, closing her eyes. "It hit the wall when he pushed me."

Jafar cursed, pulling her into his lap. If Razoul wasn't already dead, he would have killed him once more for giving her a possible concussion. "Let's get you to a healer."

"Not yet," she said, putting a hand on his arm. "Is Razoul..."

"Yes, he's dead."

He said it with authority, without room for argument. His face told Jasmine differently, a little bit of fear hinting behind his eyes. Fear that she would find him repulsive. It was one thing for her to know that he had killed, another entirely to witness it.

He needn't worry.

Jasmine cupped his cheek with her hand. "You look tired, Jaf."

Jafar couldn't help but smile a little. Only she called him that in their private meetings. If anyone dared to call him that, he would probably paralyze them on the spot. "Using that much magic tends to weaken me. I can do so much more, but today has been a long day and I'm quite wiped out. I'm fine, I promise you."

Seeming content, Jasmine nodded then grimaced at the pain of moving her head. "You killed him."

She didn't say it with disgust. Or fear. Or hatred. Just in a matter-of-fact kind of way.

He looked at her with ferocity anew. "And I would do it again. I would burn down the world, I would command the stars to fall and the sun to disappear just so I could share one last kiss with you."

Jasmine took a sharp inhale, overwhelmed. "Jafar..." She whispered his name with adoration and reverence.

"You're not bothered by that?" He took one of her hands and kissed the inside of her wrist, the warmth from his lips spreading across her body.

Jasmine traced her fingers on his face and neck, giving him reassurance. "No. Your darkness is a part of who you are. I know the man I fell in love with."

Restraining himself, Jafar kissed her deeply. Throughout his life, he had to hide certain aspects of himself from others. Not just his magic, but his thoughts and desires.

For the first time, he could fully be himself. He could surrender to the passions he longed to experience that come with emotional intimacy. If there wasn't a dead man in the room or knowing that such physical activity may worsen her head injury, he would have made love to her right then and there.

Jasmine rested her forehead against his. While she wanted him to say the three words, she couldn't in good conscience bring it up. He would say them in his own time. Tonight, he said enough. She could feel it in everything he did.

Jafar carried her out of the room, cradling her safely in his arms. "Jasmine?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter. I have rewritten it at least five times and it just doesn't feel as satisfying to me. The scene with Razoul gave me the most challenge and I hope that their confessions were realistic enough. I hope that you'll still enjoy it! Next chapter will wrap things up and have a steamy scene for everyone to enjoy. Thank you for this! I will be brainstorming a longer fic. I appreciate all the kind comments that have been given to me! :)


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